Keehlhauled
by destinykeyblade
Summary: As in, I hauled Keehl's unconcious body outside and crammed him in the backseat of my vehicle. Easiest. Kidnapping. EVER. OC; pairings possible but thus far undecided.
1. Didn't Think You Were This Dense

Welcome, welcome! If you're here, you may have been intrigued by the vague summary. With any luck, the story won't dissapoint. ^.~ Before we get started, there are a few things I need to tell you, the first of which is that whatever he may be in actuality, Mello is decidedly straight in this story.

Mirati: Obviously.

Me: Hush! They haven't met you yet!

Mirati: Then I'll introduce myself. I am the OC mentioned in the summary. You can call me Mir. *winks*

Me: *sigh* Anyways. The second thing you should know is that at this point, I've seen a whole... two Death Note episodes with Mello in them? And had seen a big fat ZERO when I wrote this chapter. So, if our favorite chocoholic's a bit out of character, give me a break, how 'bout it?

Mirati: Number three is that destinykeyblade has sworn not curse. Like, ever. Therefore, Mello's unavoidable swearing is in those little symbols above the numbers on your keyboard.

Me: Last but not least... I have ABSOLUTELY NO CLUE where this story is gonna go after this intro. If anyone has any ideas after reading, PLEASE feel free to send them to me.

Mirati: *sweatdrop* If you didn't know what you were doing, why did you bother starting it...?

Me: Because I thought of the title one day and couldn't resist starting a story under it! Think about it! Keelhauled. Put an extra H in, and it becomes 'Keehlhauled', which practically BEGS to be a story about Mello!

Mirati: ...*sighs* I was created by an idiot... *shrugs* Ah, well. What can you do?

Me: The disclaimer would be nice.

Mirati: Oh yeah. That. destinykeyblade does not own Death Note. If she did, Matt would live with her and they would spend their lives happily pressing buttons on video game controllers, because she's nearly as psycho-obsessed with them as he is. Also, she would give Near to her little cousin for her birthday, keep Mello for herself and force him to read romantic lines with his hot voice, and I don't even want to KNOW what she'd do with L. ...Oh, and Light and Misa would fall off cliffs. Big ones.

Me: ...*blinks* Well. Thank you for that... interesting disclaimer. And now, without further ado, please enjoy the latest product of my insanity.

* * *

><p>Hello, Mihael Keehl.<p>

Yes, I know your name.

You also go by the alias Mello, or simply M, depending on which mood strikes you.

I possess some information that you may find... interesting.

If you pay enough attention to it, you could very well catch Kira before White-Out does.

Yeah, I know the sheep, too. Nate Rivers, or Near, as he generally prefers.

Big-headed albino sheep. White-Out fits him better.

But that's a little off topic, isn't it?

I am more than willing to pass my information to you, Mello - if you want it, of course.

Use the map enclosed in the envelope to find me.

I'll be waiting for you, day or night, so come when you have the chance.

You won't be dissapointed.

One last thing: I'm not very popular with Kira's followers, for obvious reasons.

Be absolutely certain that you are alone when you come to see me.

Later, M.

~R

"Look at this crap, Matt," Mello said, shoving the letter in Matt's face and successfully fouling up the red-head's attempt at defeating Xion's final form on his copy of 358/2 Days. The gamer sent his friend a glare that clearly said 'If I didn't like you, I'd shoot you' before angrily closing his Nintendo DS and snatching the paper out of Mello's hand. His expression of fury faded into one of distrust as he read over the note.

"...Well?" Mello asked, arms crossed over his leather-clad chest.

Matt glanced up at him. "Well what?"

"Are we going?"

"Tch. Since when do you ask me what we're doing?" Matt scoffed, leaning back on the couch with his hands behind his head. "Anyway, it specifically says 'make sure you're alone'. I think that's a dual message - come without any companions, and don't let the Kira creeps follow you. Doesn't sound like I'm invited to this party, Mels." He paused in his speech to light the umpteenth cigarette of the day. "But if you're asking me what I think about it, I say you should rip that map up and park your butt on the couch. That's a trap if I ever saw one."

Mello heeded Matt's second piece of advice, promptly throwing himself onto the much-abused cushions. Immediately he grabbed the letter back from Matt and proceeded to read through it no less than seven more times, making a new revelation with each reading.

1. "This guy's a stalker," Mello announced, frowning deeply. "He knows my name and my aliases." Matt, deeply into another game, answered with only a grunt.

2. "I bet he hacked Wammy's, or broke in or something. He knows all the sheep's info, too." Matt responded with a little growl. "So what, I'm not worth stalking?" Mello ignored him.

3. "He knows I want to catch Kira. Maybe he's the leader of one of those underground things. That would make sense why he knows me AND White-Out. ...That _is_ a good one, you know."

4. "He hates Near as much as I do." Matt rolled his eyes. "Great," he answered sarcastically.

5. " 'If you want it.' Not, 'If you agree to my terms.' Looks like he just wants Kira caught, and for me to do it. 'Waiting day or night... You won't be dissapointed.' This information must really be worth something."

6. "Alone. No Kira worshippers following, and if you're right, no you, either, Matt..."

7. "This," Mello said, pausing dramatically, "could be a trap."

Matt actually _paused_ his game to glare at Mello, a thing nearly unheard of. "No, you think, Sherlock?" he asked drily. "How long did it take you to figure that one out?" Mello returned the glare with far more animosity, and Matt eventually turned his attention back to his game, preferring to keep all his limbs rather than clash with the aggressive blonde and end up losing something. "So tear it up already," Matt grumbled quietly.

"Nope."

Matt paused his game again, staring wide-eyed as Mello stood up off the couch, placing the letter on the table. "_What?_" he asked, bewildered.

"I'm going."

"But you just said-"

"Look, Matt," Mello snapped, pulling the map out of the envelope and unfolding it. "This is too good an opportunity to pass up. If I can catch Kira and prove that I'm better than that squirt, I'm gonna do it. And if it really is a trap..." He smirked and flipped his jacket to the side, revealing his hidden firearm. "I'd wager I can get out of it."

Matt could only gape helplessly as Mello seized a few rounds of ammunition off the table (what were those doing there, anyway?) and stuffed them in his left pocket, putting the map in his right. Without a single word of parting, Mello stepped outside and pulled the door shut hard behind him.

**~;~;~**

"Left at this light..." Mello muttered to himself, glancing down at the map as he drove the Chevelle through town. "And then a right... straight through Kira territory? What's this guy's trip? 'Don't let them follow you, Mello, but drive right past 'em to get here!' Thanks alot!"

Driving with only his right hand, Mello reached under his arm to snag a chocolate bar out of the cupholder. He didn't need to fly mad yet. YET. The time for that would be after he'd gotten his information from the stalker, which meant right now he had to focus on getting through Kiraville without being stalked by _them_. He ripped the off part of the chocolate wrapper with his teeth and spat it to the floorboard, then took a large, satisfying bite of the treat it had hidden beneath it. _Mellow out, Mello._

The drive through the mindless masses' territory went far better than he'd expected. The Kira worshippers didn't even seem to notice him - not that they should really know who he was anyway. Still, as he exited the pro-Kira section of town, he kept a cautious eye on his mirrors, determined to catch anyone who might have been following. Save a car that had been behind him since he'd first left the apartment, there was no one in sight. "So far so good," he said aloud, nodding positively and chomping down on his chocolate once more.

Some eight turns and twenty-five minutes later, the sun was starting to sink to the horizon, casting an orange-ish glow over the earth as the red Chevelle came to a stop. The man driving it, however, was just getting started.

"What kinda #$& is this? This is NOT the right *$#^&% place! It can't be!"

Mello had followed the directions exactly - and had pulled up in front of a dance club. "This isn't right," the blonde seethed, glaring out his window at the building. He could hear the music from outside, and the dark tinted windows were failing if their purpose was to stop the florescent colored lights from blinding people driving by.

"This can't be right," Mello snarled again, shooting a glare at the map. He almost tossed it out the window, but something on the back caught his eye. He flipped it over and found a note in the same handwriting as the letter.

Looks can be decieving.

Great. His stalker had watched him long enough to know how he would react to the club. Nevertheless, it meant he wasn't lost, and though he didn't relish the thought of entering, the promise of information that might help him beat Near was too tantalizing. Mello stuck the map in his right pocket once again and got out of the car, striding purposefully to the club's door.

The instant he opened it, he was assaulted by a vicious, pounding beat that not only tried to bust his eardrums but reached into his chest and forced his heart to beat along with its rhythm. The brightness of the lights he had seen from outside had been amplified by ten, leaving him blind when they flashed and blind when they went out, as the lack of light plunged the club into darkness. Add to this the hordes of people dancing (and Mello used that term loosely) in tight-knit groups that formed a sort of living wall, and it wouldn't be hard to understand why a tidal wave of hopelessness washed over the chocoholic.

"I'll never find anyone in this," he groused. At least, he thought he did. The volume of the music made it impossible for him to hear his own voice. Therefore, it came as a complete surprise when he heard someone else's voice, quite clearly, say his name.

"Mihael Keehl."

Mello jumped a foot off the ground, miraculously resisting the urge to pull out his gun and start shooting. He whirled to his right, the direction the voice had come from, and saw in the light of the multicolored strobes-

_A woman?_ his mind shrieked in disbelief.

"Follow me," she ordered, seizing his arm with a surprisingly strong grip and steering him away from the mobs to a door that he never could have found on his own. She removed her hand for just a moment, taking a key out of her pocket and sticking it into the lock. Then it was back on him, pulling him inside with her.

They appeared to be in a sort of backroom. Given that places like these were generally full of druggies, Mello suspected that later in the night there would be drug-dealers here selling their wares. Now, however, it was merely an empty room; dimly lit, and occupied by no one and nothing but Mello and his stalker. Speaking of her...

"Glad you made it, Mello," the woman said, releasing him once again and taking a few steps toward the center of the room. "I was almost afraid you weren't going to come."

Her voice was neither high nor low-pitched, but comfortably between the two. It had a bit of a melodius ring to it, as well as another quality Mello couldn't name, but that sent a pleased shiver down his spine when she said _his_ name. As for her physical appearance... well, there was nothing to sneeze at. Mello could have sworn she was specifically throwing her curves at him as she sauntered to the middle of the floor. Her clothing (leather, Mello noted with some satisfaction) would have showed a good deal of leg if her steampunk style boots hadn't come nearly to her thighs. Dark hair hung from a high ponytail all the way to her hips, which obscured most of her outfit, but the way Mello saw it, she had to turn around sometime.

When she did, Mello nearly gaped. The hourglass tilted tauntingly to the side, as if begging to be looked at, but some of the features that created it also begged for attention. The plunging neckline of her sleeveless black leather shirt was decidedly not helping matters as Mello struggled to bring his eyes to her face. Clearly, she was used to being ogled, as she seemed to wait patiently. At last, Mello did force his eyes up to where hers would be - and was captured once more, this time by a smoke-colored gaze.

_**I**__ am in _TROUBLE.

"Who are you?" Mello managed to ask, staring now at what was possibly the prettiest face he'd ever seen (in person, at least; he'd seen better in pictures). She smirked, making Mello's heart speed up.

"Hn... Well, I know your name, M, so quite obviously I would have to be R, wouldn't I?" she answered coyly, putting her hands on her hips. Mello noticed that her hands - and her arms all the way up to her elbows - were covered by a pair a black fingerless gloves. An interesting fashion statement, but it matched well with the rest of her clothing.

"What's that stand for?"

She frowned suspiciously. "Hm... I shouldn't tell you just like that," she said, gray eyes narrowing. Then she flashed him a smile. "But since you're so cute, Mihael... Rhiannon." Rhiannon stepped closer and leaned toward him. "Know what?" she asked, acting like a schoolgirl with a secret.

Mello shook his head, still trying to regain his wits. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "You can call me Mirati," she said, then leaned back to where she'd been.

"...Why?" Mello asked, blinking.

Rhiannon/Mirati smiled. "Because it's my real name," she told him with a grin.

A slow nod was Mello's reply. The shock was wearing off; rational thought was returning. Hot girl or no, this could still be a trap. He had to be on top of his game, ready for anything. "Alright then, Mirati," he said, putting his thumbs in his pockets while the rest of his hands rested against his legs. "So, you said you had information for me?"

Mirati nodded, sending her hair flying everywhere. "Oohh yes, I do indeed. Would you like it now, Mihael?"

Mello regarded her for a moment. She looked back at him innocently. "...Yeah. Tell me."

Mirati stepped toward him, an eager smile on her face, then stopped right in front of him, frowning. "Before I can get to that, I have to tell you something else," she said seriously.

"Uh... okay. What is it?"

The sparkling gray eyes went suddenly hard. Before Mello had a chance to react, Mirati had slammed him against a wall, pinning his body with hers so that he couldn't reach his gun or throw a punch. Then she slammed her hand over his mouth and nose, and Mello smelled something odd. Gas! Some kind of gas was in her gloves! Almost instantly, Mello felt himself losing conciousness. The last thing he heard was Mirati's voice speaking vaguely.

"I really didn't think you'd be this stupid."

* * *

><p>Voila! What thinkest thou, o marvelous readers? As I mentioned earlier, any and all ideas for a plot would be welcomed warmly and given hot chocolate and cookies. Reviews get whatever kind of treat they want! ...Except Ramune. Only enough of that for me :P Thanks for reading! ^^<p> 


	2. What Speed Limit?

Hey, peoples! Would you believe I'm back already?

Mirati: Record time, Blade.

Me: Blade?

Mirati: My bad, do you prefer Destiny?

Me: Uh... *shrugs* Don't care! Too jazzed about updating so fast! Before we get started, I would like to thank Kumixx and animelover618 for reviewing/favoriting/alerting, all three of which both of them did. You guys RULE! As with other fics of mine, review replies go at the end of the chapter (my way of making people read the second A/N ;P) so stick around! Now, if you would, please?

Mirati: destinykeyblade does not own Death Note or any of the characters within. She'd be sitting on Mello's lap right now if she did. However, she does own the creative rights to myself and... eh, you'll meet her next chapter.

Me: Thank you, Mirati. Now, on with the show!

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><p>Keehl stopped struggling and fell limp, his bluish-greeny eyes sliding closed. I stepped back, and he fell facedown to the floor with a thuddish sound. That... had been entirely too easy. Was Keehl faking somehow?<p>

More than a few people have told me that I'm too suspicious, but I like to think of myself as... cautious. Yeah, that's it. So, just for caution's sake, I nudged at the blonde with the heel of my boot, going so far as to roll him over in order to see his face. Keehl was _out_, and would be for quite a while - which meant it was the perfect opportunity to search him.

As expected, a gun was somewhat concealed behind his coat, (ridiculous thing, by the way - a feathered collar? Really, Keehl?) and, also as expected, the thing was loaded and ready to fire at a moment's notice. I took the bullets out of it and tossed it to the floor to continue my search. In the left pocket of Keehl's jacket, I found: More bullets. What a shock. In the right? My map, which nearly sent me into a fit of giggles. I mean, I knew he was desperate to catch Kira before Near did, but to just trust a complete stranger? I could have been Kira himself, for all he knew! Can anyone say _DUMB BLONDE_?

But, I guess his mental void worked in my favor. It _was_ my job to kidnap him, after all. Which I realized I should really get on with. Reaching down, I grabbed hold of Keehl's shirt collar and headed for the door that led out to the backside of the building, dragging the unconcious man across the ground behind me.

The red-orange sunset greeted me when I stepped outside. It had only been ten minutes or so since Keehl arrived at the club, so I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised that it was still daylight. The tension must have made it seem longer, because there certainly had been tension. My employer had told me just about everything I could ever want to know about Mihael Keehl - and that, my friend, was a you-know-what load of information. I'd spent days reading all his files, shaking my head in mild shock most of the time. This was far from my first kidnapping job, but the thought of tangling with Keehl had set me on edge, especially considering _how_ I'd been ordered to do it.

_"You are not to injure him,"_ the boss had specified. _"Simply lure him to you and find a way to render him unconcious. I expect Mihael in perfect condition when you bring him back to me."_

_"How the heck am I supposed to do that?"_ I'd replied rather... excitedly. _"Have you SEEN this guy's file? He's a cold-blooded Mafia man, and you want me to 'simply render him unconcious'? I'm gonna get killed. You want me killed!"_

...As one can imagine, my outburst hadn't gone over too well. I was lucky all I got was a sharp reprimand, but really, that was as severe as my punishment could afford to be. Hesitant as I was, I was only one for the job - literally. Everyone else had refused point-blank, and the boss... well, he was bit... desperate. He needed Keehl out of his way, but alive, and thus, I was sent out with specific orders this time. The whole plan depended on the gloves. Well, that and my ability to make Keehl forget his own name for a minute or two. Obviously, that hadn't been much of a problem, so now with my prize in hand, it was time to get back to headquarters.

I stepped up to the 'get-away car', as a certain ditzy blonde girl would have called it, and hesitated. It would be so much fun to stuff Keehl in the trunk... but then, there was the whole perfect condition thing. If I wanted my hide intact when I got back, his would have to be, too. Still, I couldn't help a little sigh as opened the door to the backseat and tossed him down on the fabric. He bounced and flopped, limp as a wet noodle.

With a satisfied nod at him and a suspicious glance around at the empty parking lot, I stepped in and yanked the low-cut leather off my torso, replacing it with a much more subtly sliced black cotton shirt that had been lying in the floorboard. Rather than trying to show off everything I had, this one simply hinted at it, leaving me far more comfortable than I had been. As I switched out the mini-skirt for a pair of jeans, I was again struck with thoughts of the blonde I mentioned, and of how she would laugh her butt off if she ever found out that I'd changed clothes right in front of a man. The fact that he was unconcious wouldn't matter to that nut-job.

That task over with, I stepped back out the door and slammed it, digging my keys of my jeans pocket. "Let's rock," I muttered to myself, a habit from the beginning of my criminal career. You might call it a catch phrase of sorts. The familiar weight of my keys settled into my hand, but there was something wrong - the cold metallic-ness of them hadn't reached my palm, and I realized I was still wearing those dang gloves. The problem was quickly remedied as I ripped them off my arms and dropped them to the pavement, stomping on one for good measure. Next time the boss told me to use a method like that, I was gonna do like everyone else and back out with my hands in the air. And so, despicable gloves disposed of, I slid behind the wheel, throttled some metal on the radio, and hit the gas, speeding away from the scene of the crime.

**~;~;~**

I hadn't gotten far with my kidnap-ee when a the shriek of a siren intruded on the Avenged Sevenfold song the local rock station had so graciously decided to play for me. The blue lights nearly blinded me when I glanced into the rearview, meaning the cop was ridiculously close. Letting out a growl and some interesting curse-word substitutes, I pulled off the side of the road and turned my rock down. First rule of being a criminal: under NO circumstances are you to act like you're up to no good. My drug-running older brother had made that mistake, and he was rotting in jail for it now. For some reason, he couldn't seem to grasp the concept that if you drive like a normal person, the cops will assume that you ARE a normal person. They only suspect you of being a runner if you drive like one! But my brother's stupidity is neither here nor there. I, however, was there, and the policeman was right behind me. Or right beside me, as I discovered when he tapped on my window.

Innocently I rolled it down, forcing myself to keep a confused expression on my face. "Yes, officer?" I asked politely, giving him an addled little frown. "Is there something wrong?"

The cop, a burly six-foot monstrosity, nodded his head. "Are you aware how fast you were going?" he asked without preamble.

I blinked as though shocked at the question. "Yes sir," I replied instantly. "I was going four miles over the speed limit. I thought I was allowed up to five."

It took extreme effort not to laugh at his face. My answer had stalled him out completely; he'd obviously expected me to panic and babble some kind of 'I don't know', after which he could accuse me of whatever speed he felt like, depending on how much money he wanted from me. Sadly, he recovered after a moment, putting his authorative face back on. "The speed limit is a _limit_. You'll get a warning this time. Watch it in the future." He started to walk off, and I thought I might actually be safe. Shows what I get for thinking.

"Wait," he said loudly, catching sight of Keehl. I cringed inwardly as the policeman pointed his vast finger in my captive's direction. "What's wrong with that one?"

I glanced back with a fondly exasperated expression on my face, going for the aggravated girlfriend look. "Partied too hard," I sighed apologetically. "I'm taking him home." Again I was forced to contain a stream of laughter. 'Him' was apparently not the pronoun the cop had been expecting. Very unfortunately, he recovered again, this time giving me a suspicious frown.

"Partying, eh?" he asked, his lip curling into an unpleasant sneer.

_Crap._

"You wouldn't have been at it with him, would you?"

_Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap!_

"Step out of the vehicle, ma'am."

_Shiitake mushrooms! I did NOT want to have to do this. Someone's getting _eaten_ for this when I get back to HQ!_

Rather than comply, I pulled an I.D. out of my pocket and held it up to the cop, dropping my cutesy expressions for a harder, more natural one. "Actually, I'm in a bit of a hurry," I said coolly, allowing myself a satisfied smirk as his widened eyes took in the sight of the card. "If you'll excuse me, officer."

The man stepped away from my window soundlessly, nodding with an open mouth and waving me on weakly. I put the car back in gear and started to roll away, but changed my mind. I'd already had to use the thing. Why not have some fun with the authority it gave me? "Officer," I called, and he jumped, looking at me with wide eyes. "If you would, please radio to all other patrolling units that the gray Corvette is to be left alone - even if it _is_ going four miles over the speed limit."

He scrabbled for his radio, and I stuck around long enough to hear him fumble through what I'd said, smirking the entire time. Then with a little nod, rolled my window back up and got back on the highway, my smirk transitioning to a grin as I turned the volume back up on the radio and recognized the last three minutes of One. _Perfect_ driving music, especially considering that I was allowed to speed now. I'd be home to my villian's welcome in no time.

* * *

><p>And there it is. What'd you think? Personally, I'm not so sure how the first-person thing turned out, not being very experienced withconfident in it. Give me your opinions, please - but keep in mind that the first-person view is to be used only when Mirati is telling the story. If anyone else's POV is needed, it will be in third-person. And now, the replies!

animelover618 - I agree; I can just picture Matt as a KH character... *swoons* Lol, thanks a lot for your praise. I KNOW, RIGHT! Why must authors, myself included, always leave people dangling off the sides of cliffs? When will we learn that that's not nice? ...Anyway. Thanks for reading! ^.~

Kumixx - 0.o Dude, seriously? That's awesome! Now I'll have to make Mir go by that whenever she's in public, just for you, 'cause as a reviewer, I LUFFLES YOU TOO! O.O DON'T DO IT! HE'LL EAT _YOU!_ Mello: *points gun* Back off. _NOW._ Me: Nuuu! Bad Mello! You don't shoot the reviewers! Haha, lol :)

Thank you both SOOOOOOOO much for reading, and even more for reviewing! I say again: YOU RULE! To you and all others who might be reading this chapter, reviews give me the strength to keep Mello from taking over the world. For your own sakes, help me out here!


	3. NutJobs, Flashbacks, and Explanations

W00t! I'm back again!

Mir: Took you long enough, slacker!

Me: Shut your face, Mir. I am NOT in the mood to put up with you. I have just been forced to watch ten unbelievably unruly children with next to no help from the other girl who was supposed to be assisting me, and it was everything I had not to eat them alive so SHUT. YOUR. FACE.

Mir: ...Nobody cares about your life. They just care about the fic.

Me: Right. Well then, to the readers, I am sorry this update is so late. This chapter's been done for like, a week now, but I haven't been near a computer with internet access. So anywho. Let's hear a big 'THANK YOU' for the following: otaku9, Kumixx, MissStrawberryTea, HarryPotterMangaGleek, Glitterthorn, and RandomAsRainbows! Love you guys! ^.~ As usual, review replies will be at the bottom, and since no one commented on Mir's first person viewpoint, we're gonna stick with that. However, as I've said, that will be for Mir and Mir alone... which hints that the story will be following the doings of more than just one group of characters. Three guesses who the next chapter's about! Right answers get imaginary Mello plushies lol. Now then, Mir! Disclaimer please!

Mir: destinykeyblade does not own Death Note. If she did, she'd pull an L and handcuff herself to Mello. Also, a very important note! The boss was supposed to be an OC, but since this story had no plot to begin with and the authoress is making it up as she goes, he had to be a canon so everything would make sense. As with the next chapter challenge above, three guesses who he is, and correct answers get a jar of jam! And now, without any further ado, let's get on with chapter three!

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><p>"MIRA-TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!"<p>

The shriek and black and yellow blur were all the warning I had that I was about to be tackled. Normally, the bone-crushing embrace that threatened my life every time I came through the door of headquarters was easily avoidable: simply crouch down and trip the assailant, or step aside at the last second. This time, though, I had Keehl slung over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes, which both slowed me down and prevented me from ducking. Thus, my attacker managed to get her arms around me, squeezing all the air out of my lungs.

"Mirati!" she squealed happily as she attempted to snap a few of my ribs. The cracking sensation in them was not improved when she started jumping up and down. "I'm so glad you're back! It's so boring around here without you!"

"Alice!" I rasped, slamming my left palm into her back. "Air!"

With a horrified gasp (as usual), the blonde woman released me, clapping her hands over mouth. "Aw, carp!" she exclaimed through her fingers. "I did it again! Sorry, sis."

Yes, you read that right. The blonde, psychopathic eighteen year-old was my sister. Alice was almost identical to me as far as our faces went; however, in all other areas, we were completely different. While I had the black hair from our mother, she had taken our father's natural bleach-blonde. Our eyes were just the opposite, me getting Daddy-dearest's gray eyes and Alice being blessed with Mom's icy blue. As for our shapes, Alice was tall, thin and willowy, with little to speak of in the way of a bust. Me... well, you remember. I was a bit shorter than Alice (almost a head shorter than Keehl, if that gives you a better idea), and had been blessed/cursed with more curves than a mountain road. Then there were our mental states - but I'd prefer not to get into that just yet. We made an odd pair, to be sure, but despite our differences -and her tendency to try to kill me- I had to love her.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, waving my free hand at her. "Just _try_ to remember next time." She nodded vigorously, sending her mid-back length hair flying, and stepped out of my way, allowing me to trudge into our living quarters.

"So how'd it go?" Alice asked eagerly, walking quickly to put herself beside me. "Flawlessly, as planned?"

I shrugged my left shoulder. "Mostly. I had to use the badge to get home - cops suck."

Her eyes widened. "You got pulled over?" she asked loudly. "And you still got here?" When I nodded, she laughed and clapped her hands. "I KNEW there was a reason I looked up to you!" Her playful demeanor vanished as we approached our couch, replaced by intense curiosity. "I take it that's Keehl you're carrying?"

"Not anymore," I replied, dropping him onto the cushions. Conveniently for Alice, he fell facing up, and she immediately began her (ab)normal procedure.

"Ooooooh..." came the warning coo. Before I could do anything about it, she had her hands on him, playing with his hair, caressing his face... all routine Alice behavior when I kidnapped anyone of the opposite sex. If she'd left it at that, I probably would have let her fondle him, but I saw one naughty little hand drifting down toward his middle; as usual, she was going to yank his shirt up to see if he had abs worth looking at. Time to intervene.

I smacked Alice's hand just as her fingertips brushed against Keehl's shirt. With a yelp, she withdrew both hands, casting me a hurt and betrayed look. "What'd you do that for?" she whined, her eyes already back on Keehl. "I was-"

I cuffed the back of her head this time, and she dropped dramatically to the floor, rubbing at the spot. "Ooooooooooowww!" she complained. "Why, Mir?"

"You're not allowed to feel him," I said dispassionately. Feeling suddenly drained of energy, I pushed Keehl's feet out of the way and plopped down onto the couch myself, letting my head fall backwards. "The boss said this one's got to be in perfect condition, which he won't be if I let you grope-"

"GROPE?" she shrieked in outrage.

"Fine, _Alice-ify_ him," I continued in a monotone. "Just keep your paws off the goods, sister." Heh. Most people aren't actually talking to their sister when they say that. She was annoying sometimes, but Alice was more often a source of entertainment. An image of her in a jester's hat popped into my mind, and I snickered tiredly.

"Care to tell me what you find so funny, Mirati?"

The masculine voice jolted me back into awareness, sending adrenaline surging through my veins and ridding me of my momentary fatigue. I leapt to my feet. Beside me, Alice did the same.

"Boss!" she said in a respectful tone, offering a little bow to the hooded man in the doorway. Then she jabbed a finger in Keehl's direction. "She got him!"

"And? Were there any... complications?"

I shook my head. "No, s-sir..." I faltered. Not true. "Well, I, ah... I did get pulled over on the way here, and, uh... in order to get back, I had to-"

"YOU USED IT?" came the furious bellow.

I cringed. "Yessir!" My reply came out as a squeak, and I slapped myeslf mentally. The top operative is NOT supposed to squeak under pressure! ...And with that comment, perhaps I should take a minute to explain all this to you.

Alice and I are part of a criminal syndicate out for world domination. Yeah, I know - so cliché. Still, that's the deal. Moving on. The organization is having trouble accomplishing its goal, and all because of one little obstacle - Kira. Whoever he is, he's already done what the boss wants to do, or close enough to it that it counts. Therefore, the boss has a new plan: find out who Kira is, kill him, and then declare himself as the new ruler. This road, however, revealed yet more obstacles, one of which is the SPK. Near reigns supreme over that organization, and must eventually be dealt with for the plan to succeed. For now, though, we're pretending to work _with_ him to stop Kira.

That brings me to why I kidnapped Mr. Mafia over there. Seems he's giving Near some trouble, and as I think I already mentioned, Near wants him out of his way - but unharmed. Now, I don't claim to know where the boss gets his information (because I personally listened in on all the conversations he had with Near, and I KNOW the kid never mentioned his real name or his past) but somehow, he knew that Nate River and Mihael Keehl had known one another from an institution known as The Wammy's House. They were in line to become the next L, the famous detective, when the original passed away, but of course, there can only be one. Near took that position, and Blondie took off to the underground to join the Mafia. Since then, he's been using his resources to mess with Near, hacking into his systems, attacking some of his people... you know, that sort of thing. Finally, the sheep decided he'd had enough - which is when we stepped in, passing ourselves off as an anti-Kira group that just wants him taken down. Near accepted our help, and bada-bing, bada-boom, Keehl is our prisoner. Of course, a few problems were foreseen, and thus to aid me in my capture, I was given a very convincing FBI ID. It was only to be used in the most dire of circumstances...

"MIRATI, YOU ARE AN IDIOT!"

_To heck with trying to act calm!_

I recoiled visibly from the boss's roar, tripping over a petrified Alice and knocking us both to the floor in a heap. Our faceless leader advanced on us - what? Oh, faceless? Well, yeah. No one in the group has seen the boss's face. _EVER_. He wears a big hoodie and refuses to show himself, and honestly? He's scarier that way, because you can't look at his face when you're talking to him, and your imagination goes wild when he starts yelling, giving you visions of some horrible monster underneath that black hood. The rest of the members follow him because of the fear - that, and they want a cut of the world to rule. Alice and I...

_I pushed Alice behind me and tried to look menacing. Not the easiest thing to do when you're backed into a corner with your fifteen year-old sister, you yourself are only seventeen, and the two of you are up against a group of five thugs in a dark alley. I didn't have any kind of weapons, and while I'd always thought I was pretty strong, I knew I didn't have a chance against these gangsters. If they hadn't felt like toying with us first, we'd already have been stripped and - I stopped thinking like that. Alice was shaking like a building in an earthquake, and I knew if started doing the same thing, we wouldn't have _any_ chance. It wasn't like we had much of one anyway, but still, I might be able to take a couple of them and give Alice a chance to run..._

_"I get blackie first, boys," the leader of the thugs said, looking at me with a disgusting leer. I couldn't stop myself from gulping. The man took a step forward - and fell to the ground, a knife in his back._

_Alice screamed behind me as a dark-clad figure dropped out of nowhere into the midst of the gangsters and began to attack them. The men lunged for the figure, but he was far too quick for them to catch. He easily dodged their wild tackles, side-stepping one, then ducking down to avoid another. Then, in one fluid motion, he rose out of his crouch and swept a blade across the neck of a man standing behind him. Instantly he fell onto one of his comrades. Just as quickly, the assailant had a knife on the ground, which embedded itself into the living man's stomach as he fell on it. The final two thugs rushed him at once, hoping to distract him. They failed, and one took a flying knife to the eye, while the other found the piece of steel in his throat. And just like that, it was over. It had only taken a minute, tops, for this stranger to kill five men, and he had not a scratch on him._

_"Girls should not be out alone at night in this city," the stranger said. His voice was casual, as though he were commenting on the weather. He turned in our direction, and though I couldn't see his face due to his large black hoodie, I could feel him eyeing us. "Hm. Street children. Well... if you would like a safe place to stay, and a way to earn your living, follow me." With that, he started walking away. Still terrified from the ordeal and not wanting to be near the corpses, Alice and I scurried after him._

That was the beginning of it all. The boss brought us back to headquarters, saving us from both men like those he'd killed for us and a life on the streets. Remember that drug-running brother I mentioned? After he got caught, the government had taken his house, which was where we'd been staying. They kicked us out, and, well, you see the end result.

Of course, we weren't just allowed to stay with the boss for nothing. We had to be useful to him somehow, and that, my friends, is how I ended up an expert kidnapper. Turns out, I have a talent for stealing things - specifically things that are alive. As for Alice? Call her Copycat. My little sister always had a knack for impersonating people, but with the boss's training, that became a useful skill. Show Alice a photo, and by way of make-up, ridiculously convincing masks, and hair dye, she will physically become that person. Give her a short audio clip of the person's speech, and the transformation is complete, because she can imitate it perfectly.

But all that's a bit off subject, isn't it? As I was saying. The boss started toward us, fury radiating from his dark form. "Mirati," he hissed menacingly. "Alice. You are my best, this I do not deny. However, I expect better of the BOTH of you if you intend to remain in this living world. No. More. Mistakes." He leaned down to us, putting his face inches from mine, yet I still could see nothing of it. "Do I make myself clear?" he asked in a low tone.

"Yes you do!" Alice squeaked, squeezing her eyes shut. "Crystal!"

He nodded in satisfaction. "Mirati?" he said then. It sounded more like a growl.

"Yes, sir," I answered, pleased when I managed to keep the tremble out of my voice. "Perfectly clear."

Instantly he straightened, the air of anger vanishing. "Very good," he said, as though nothing had happened. "Now then, River has given us more instructions for Keehl. We are to hold him here until someone comes to collect him. He is to be well taken care of. Mirati, as you are the one who abducted him, I leave you in charge of this. Alice may help you, of course."

Right about then, I think my heart stopped. "WE HAVE TO KEEP HIM?" I shrieked. ...Yes, I know it's unintelligent to yell at the boss! You think there's a way I couldn't know? You tell me now, honestly - if you got told that you had to watch over a Mafioso, wouldn't you scream too?

Fortunately, he was used to outbursts from me, and knew that they weren't subordination; just the result of panic. "Yes," he replied calmly. "You have to keep him. Someone from the SPK should be here around the middle of next month to get him-"

"NEXT MONTH?"

"Yes. Now, if you're quite finished yelling, I suggest you handcuff Keehl. He should be coming around in a bit, and as I'm certain you're aware, he is dangerous." The boss returned to the doorway he'd entered through. "Keehl will be in our custody for approximately five weeks. I will check in with you from time to time. Beyond that," -here he chuckled, though for what reason, I don't know- "the three of you will be on your own. Good day, ladies."

With that, he stepped out the door, leaving Alice and me still on the floor, both of us gaping like fish. In sync, we turned to one another and exchanged a horrified look.

"Sis?" Alice asked, her voice quavering.

"Yeah, Al?"

"...We're dead, aren't we?"

I tossed a glance at Keehl. "Yeah. Pretty much."

* * *

><p>Ta-da! Now, the replies.<p>

Kumixx - Well, you see what kind of trouble her looks get her into in the flashback. So yeah, pretty much.

Glitterthorn - You have just become my new favorite person! Arigatou gozaimasu! ^^ Yeah, I know what you mean, Misa usually has that role covered XD Thanks so much for your positive review!

RandomAsRainbows - Well, I'd answer your question, but that's already been done, so I'll just thank you for reviewing. Arigatou! ^^

Thanks to all for reading! Reviews are always welcome, too!


	4. The Search Begins

Le gasp! I'm finally back! Took me long enough. This chapter's been done for a month now...

Mirati: Hey, hey, what is this carp? I'm not in this chapter at all!

Me: Get over it. The world doesn't revolve around you, ya know, and neither does this story.

Mirati: *blink blink* ...I'll quit! You have to put me in more chapters or I'll quit!

Me: *shrugs* Fine, do it. I'll go write Naruto fanfics. Itachi's more interesting than you are, anyway.

Mirati: W-what? You'd just abandon us?

Me: Yep. Get over your issues, or I'm gone.

Mirati: YES MA'AM!

Me: *whispers to you loverly readers* She's so gullible. I wouldn't ditch you guys for other stuff. Big thanks go to Glitterthorn, Frogata, and Kumixx. Love you guys! Review replies will be at the bottom, as always. ...*yells* MIR! DISCLAIMER! _**NOW!**_

Mirati: YES MA'AM! destinykeyblade does not own Death Note! Mello and Matt would have been more major characters if she did. ...And Misa would have died when she was supposed to, instead of the stupid Shinigami saving her!

* * *

><p><em>T-t-tap. T-t-tap. T-t-tap.<em>

Matt drummed his fingernails on the back of his DS. The sounds emanating from the little box indicated that Roxas was getting killed again, but for once, Matt couldn't really say he cared.

_It's eleven o'clock._

"GYAAAH!"

_Mello left at six._

"It's over..."

_He should have been back by now._

The game fell silent as Roxas floated in a black void, waiting for Matt to press the 'continue' button that would reanimate him. Instead, the Nobody vanished altogether, the rest of the screen going black at a slide of the power switch. Matt put the Nintendo on the table and rose from his seat on the couch, heading to the window. He slid the blinds open a bit and gazed down at the street below. In the illumination of three weakly shining street lights, a black motorcycle was visible, chrome glinting. However, the red SS 454 was nowhere to be seen.

"He would take the car," Matt grumbled aloud, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his vest. With an aggravated sigh, the red-head turned back toward the center of the living room, glaring daggers at the letter that lay next to his game system. Mello had left it, but of course, he'd taken the map. That didn't leave him much to go on.

Sighing again, Matt rummaged around in a pile of clothes laying on the floor until he found one of Mello's leather jackets. The blonde man was smaller than he, but the thing still fit well enough, and in the event of a crash, Matt would rather have it than not. Some chance of survival was better than none, after all. He snatched an unopened pack of cigarettes, a spare key to the car, and the letter off the table, stuffing them all in a pocket. A helmet was then roughly removed from its spot on a coat rack. Matt tucked it under his arm and, with one last sigh, stepped out the door.

_Mello had better appreciate this when I find his sorry butt._

**_~;~;~_**

Two hours found Matt leaning up against a wall, waiting for the door on his left to open. A trail of smoke from his cigarette drifted lazily up into the air, reinforcing a notion that time was moving slower for some reason. At last, Matt heard the heavy, clunking footsteps that signaled the return of one of the goons Mello associated with.

"Boss says you're clear. Come on."

Taking one last drag, Matt tossed the butt to the ground and followed the over-muscled Mafioso through a maze of hallways, at the end of which was a room full of similarly physiqued men and a wide variety of half-dressed women. _Not something I needed to see,_ Matt grumbled inwardly. He scanned the room's occupants for the leader, Rod Ross, the only one whose name he'd bothered to learn. It wasn't hard to find him; as usual, he was next to two women rather than one.

"Ross," Matt said to get his attention, putting just enough respect in his tone to keep from getting shot. The brute looked up expectantly.

"What do you want, Red?"

_Well, you don't beat around the bush, do you?_ "Is Mello here?"

Ross shook his head. "Thought he was with you."

Matt's heart plummeted. "He was. He left earlier today, and I thought he might've come back here."

"Nope. Haven't seen him."

_That's great. That's just great. Now where am I gonna look? ...You'd better be safe, Mello._

Matt nodded in a gesture of thanks, glad his goggles hid his eyes and the distracted look that must be in them. "Well, guess I'm going then. If he does show up here, let me know if you don't mind." With that, he made a hasty retreat, not wanting to be roped into any sort of Mafia operations while he was there.

By some miracle, he found his way back outside, where he stood for a moment, wondering what he should do next. On one hand, it was one AM. It was dark, making it hard to search, and he was tired, making it harder. On the other, if Mello was in trouble, it was going to be a time-sensitive matter, and Matt would never get it off his conscience if he could have helped and didn't. Letting out a little groan, Matt climbed back on the motorcycle. Mello was almost more trouble than he was worth. Almost.

Another hour later, Matt was about to give up. He had no clue where to even begin looking for Mello! How the heck was he supposed to find the idiot? It was at this point that he just happened to see a flash of red out of the corner of his eye. He glanced toward it and was dissapointed to see that it was a strobe light, shining out of a dance club's window. Sighing, Matt went ahead and pulled into the parking lot. He needed a smoke. _Bad_.

A tiny, flickering flame appeared on the end of Matt's lighter, vanishing almost as quickly, its job done. Matt's next sigh was one of relief. Yes, he knew the cigarettes were terrible, vile things that were undoubtedly killing him, but nothing could help him de-stress the way they did. The red-head exhaled, feeling calmer already. Mello had to be somewhere, and that meant he could be found. Matt just had to be looking in the right place. Of course, this dance club was NOT the right place. Mello wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this, and he definitely wouldn't go in alive. Matt, on the other hand, was beginning to seriously consider taking a look around. Two AM + dance club = drug dealers. He could probably get a large quantity of cigarettes for a lower price than if he bought them legally...

Deciding that a few more minutes wouldn't hurt anything, Matt tossed yet another butt to the ground and crushed it under his boot, then started for the door. He passed between several exotic-looking vehicles on his way, resisting an impulse to take a closer look at those. It wouldn't do for him to get caught stealing a car when Mello wasn't around to bail him o-

Matt's thoughts cut off, his mind going blank save for one thing. _That's my car._

Across the parking lot, away from all the others, was a car with a suspiciously familiar silhouette. Shaking more than a little bit, Matt changed direction and headed toward it, feeling a sense of confused dread. Mello would never come here. NEVER. That could NOT be the car. But... Matt had built the thing from the ground up. He _knew_ that car; every contour of it, and everything about the machine in front of him matched his mental image. He dug around in his pocket for the spare key he'd grabbed before he left the apartment and, shaking perhaps worse than he had been a moment ago, tried to insert it into the lock.

_Click._

It fit.

Matt yanked the key back and stared, shivering, at the car. _His_ car. Mello was here - or had been. Not sure which idea scared him more, Matt stuffed his key back in his pocket and started for the door again, moving at a jog. Upon reaching it, he flung it open and dashed inside, then stopped dead, blind in the darkness that came between flashes of colored light. Knowing he'd regret it for at least a few minutes, Matt slid his goggles up to rest on his head and found that he was right. The lights were ridiculously bright, but he soon adjusted, being accustomed to playing video games in the dark.

_"Aaaaaaaaa-ooooooooooooooooooooo!"_

The gamer cringed, covering his ears to shield them from the volume of the blasting music and the three hundred clubbers who had decided to howl along with Shakira. Hesitantly, he removed his hands and stepped forward, trying his best to look around. In nearly every direction lay a mob of people dancing, but around the edges of the groups, Matt caught a glimpse of a partially open door.

_There!_

Goal in sight, Matt threw himself into the sea of movement, knowing that the only way to get past was to dance through. He let himself get caught in the current, becoming a part of, as it were, the waves of dancers, and finding that he actually enjoyed it. All too soon he was out of the throng, panting slightly from the exertion of dancing. The door he'd seen was ahead of him now, and he stepped through cautiously. People were crazy as a general rule, but club-goers... well, they were worse. Nothing sharp flew at his face when he poked it into the room, so he went on in, taking that as a positive sign.

He'd been right about the dealers, he noted as he gave the ones eyeing him a little nod of acknowledgement. They nodded back, grins splitting their faces when he walked their way. Must have been a slow business night. As Matt mumbled his way through a transaction for (right again) cheap cigarettes, he surveyed the dimly lit backroom, searching for any signs that Mello might have been here. At first glance, he saw nothing; not a scrap of evidence. Then he happened to catch sight of a few black feathers on the floor.

_Mello,_ he thought instantly, making a beeline for them as soon as he'd handed over payment for his goods. He took a step closer to the feathers and nearly lost his balance for no apparent reason. Matt righted himself and looked down at the floor - and cursed. Bullets. There were bullets on the floor, and not just the casings, the whole things. Worse than that, they were the exact kind of bullets that fit into Mello's gun.

_...I don't know if I'm relieved or worried more. There weren't any shots fired, obviously, but... what does it mean that they're just laying here like this?_

Matt cast a glance over his shoulder at the drug dealers, wondering if they'd noticed anything. Fortunately, another customer had been behind Matt and was now occupying their attention. Good. Matt put his hand down to snatch the bullets, but stopped. If no one found them, he might be able to come back with latex gloves and an army of plastic bags to test them for fingerprints later... If the circumstances had been less worrying, Matt could have laughed at himself. Who thought like that? Only a Wammy's kid.

But the plan of coming back meant that Matt would have to get out the club, and pretty fast at that. If he wanted to get the bullets before someone else had a chance, he'd have to come back _tonight_, on top of that. The red-head took a deep breath to calm a slightly racing heart. There was work to d-

_Where does_ that_ door go?_

Matt straightened quickly and walked over to the other door that he'd just noticed. Where did it lead? Only one way to find out. He turned the handle and stepped through, finding himself outside in what appeared to be a back parking lot. It was devoid of any cars or people, though there were a few animals wandering about. One in particular caught Matt's eye: an emaciated cat was slinking along the pavement when it suddenly stopped, sniffed something on the ground in front of it, and turned tail the other way.

_What was that about?_

Hoping that the door wasn't going to lock when it shut, Matt let it close softly behind him and approached... whatever that dark spot on the ground was. As he got closer, he realized that there were actually two objects rather than one. Matt knelt down and picked one up. It was a woman's black, fingerless glove. Weird. Why had the cat run away from it? Raising an eyebrow at this little conundrum, Matt sniffed at the glove himself - and nearly gagged.

"Well, Mello," he said aloud to the night air as he stood up, "you've got yourself in some deep #%$& this time."

* * *

><p>And there we go! Reply time!<p>

Kumixx - Aw, thanks! Updates are always fun. ^^ YES! YES YES YESYESYES! You are correct, my friend! That hint gave it away, didn't it? Ah, the world may never know... Alice is just strange like that... And although I epic failed at updating soon, at least I updated, right?

Frogata - Wrong, my friend. That made PERFECT sense to me! Of course, I am related to Alice's real-life inspiration, and she talks in a manner far more confusing than that, sooo... yeah. I got it. ^^ Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!

Glitterthorn - You have just made my day! No, really. The title is actually what this entire story stemmed from, so to get a compliment on that is SO AWESOME! The rest of your praise is also very much appreciated; I do strive to be entertaining, and grammar... well, let's leave it at 'I heart my red pen', shall we? XD Fun, you say? Hmm... well... nope, not really. Just a lot of torture for both of them :P "Zydrate comes in a little glass vial..." *all readers stare* ...You'll see! As for the boss, YES! Absolutely right! I didn't mean for that to happen, but, you know... it just kind of... did. Fail XD.

Anyways! Thank you all so much for reading, and reviews rock my world. Be an earthquake?


	5. Mello! The Psychotic Opera

Hallo, loverly readers! Happy Mello's birthday, everybody! ^^

Mir: You are pathetic, you know that? This is like, the shortest chapter you've ever written, you slacker.

Me: Hey now, I have a valid excuse. Alice's real-life inspiration has a notebook with some... important information in it. Without it, I can't progress, so I'll have to wait until Christmas.

Mir: Why?

Me: So I can attack her and steal the notebook!

Mir: ...Right. Well. Anyways. destinykeyblade would like to thank Glitterthorn, Kumixx, IcyBreeze7, Frogata, Stormygio, and smokeyuchiha (whose username she adores, by the way, being an enormous fan of the Uchihas herself). As usual, review replies will be at the bottom of the chapter, and for the record, destinykeyblade still doesn't own Death Note. If she did, she'd be showering Mello with chocolate today in comemmoration of his birth. However, since he is fictional and this is impossible as a result, all the rest of you people should join her in eating chocolate to celebrate.

Me: Thank you, and now, on to the chapter! ...Oh wait, I lied! Exclamation points and question marks keep getting deleted when placed one after the other, so you will find them with a period in between, as it makes them stay. NOW on to the chapter!

* * *

><p>"Stop. Looking. At. Me."<p>

"SHUT. YOUR. FACE."

"Can't we all just get along?"

"**NO!"**

"Alright, alright! Jeez! ...Snarglewarps..."

Mir and Mello hate eachother, take 53. Proving the boss right, Keehl had decided to wake up about fifteen minutes after it was mentioned that he might, and in the three hours since then... well, you see it. With Keehl being a dangerous criminal - well, a more dangerous criminal than Alice and me, anyway - I was doing my best not to let him out of my sight. However, I kidnapped him, so automatically he hates my guts, which, in turn, leads to him yelling at me, me yelling back, Alice telling us to stop yelling, and both of us yelling at her to shut up. Yeah. Not the happiest environment. I swear, when this is over, I'm taking a vacation. For now, though, I'm stuck in the present.

"Alice, if you call me a snarglewarp ONE MORE TIME," I threatened, balling my hand into a fist and brandishing it at her. My blonde-haired (and blonde-brained) sister stuck her tongue out at me before shrieking "SNARGLEWAAAARRRRP!.!.!" and sprinting away. I came oh-so close to jumping off the couch and chasing her with the random heavy book that was lying on the table, but Keehl shifted, bringing my attention back to him and reminding me that I had to be a human security camera. "YOU SUCK, ALICE!" I shouted instead, letting my head fall back.

"...What the %$&'s a snarglewarp?" Keehl grumbled after a moment.

Without really looking at him, I responded "You," and proceeded to fall over onto my side, effectively taking up the entire couch. ...One of them, anyhow. We had two couches, thankfully, so I could sit (or lay) on one while Keehl sulked and plotted his revenge/escape on the other. The thought never crossed my mind that he might already _have_ a plot and decide to implement it the second he saw vulnerability - which, I suppose, is why I was shocked beyond rational thought when something landed on top of me and pressed a cold metal chain to my neck. For future reference to all you people, in the case that YOU ever capture a Mafioso and have to watch him, don't put handcuffs on him. They're a weapon.

My eyes flew open wide, and I found that Keehl's were right in front of them. He was only a few inches away from my face, his expression so icy and hard that I wanted to scream. I knew right then if he wanted to kill me, he could - and would.

Keehl pressed down harder with the chain, making air harder to come by. "Release me," he snarled, putting his hands on the sides of my neck. His fingers started to dig into the skin, and I tried REALLY hard not to scream, knowing that would use up a lot of my remaining oxygen. "_Let me go,_" the blonde growled again. He shifted his position, bringing his knee off the couch beside me and onto my stomach. If he pushed at all, I'd lose my air, and probably my life after that. "Let me go-"

_Click._

Keehl turned his head at the familiar sound of a gun being cocked. I tried to glance that way too, and got a blurry, oxygen-deprived image of Alice standing across the room, cold fury on her face and a big gun pointed straight at Keehl's head. "Get off her right now," Alice commanded. The slight shake in her voice only made it more ominous, because emotionally distressed people are always more likely to shoot than those who don't really care. "NOW! Or I will let you go - straight down!"

Such is our way of thinking. Even at a time like this, Alice and I don't curse. My foggy brain told me that this was funny, and a delirious, (literally) half-strangled giggle left my mouth. Keehl's attention snapped back to me for a few seconds. Then he was looking at Alice again.

"You aren't gonna shoot me," he said confidently. "Your boss needs me intact. Unharmed. You told me so yourself."

Alice put her finger on the trigger. "I don't flippin' CARE what the boss says!" she shrieked, stepping closer with the gun. "You get away from my sister right now or I swear I will shoot you!" Keehl didn't move, and Alice started to squeeze. "GET OFF HER!"

Through bleary eyes I saw Keehl look at me again. The next thing I knew, the chain was gone, and sweet, sweet air filled my lungs, though so much after so little nearly made me choke. Alice was beside me in 0.3 seconds, one arm around my shoulders as she helped me sit up. The other hand was still pointing the gun at Keehl, who had retreated back to the other couch where he sat glaring daggers at us. Mostly me. "At least take these off me," Keehl growled, rattling the chain on the handcuffs.

I slowly rose to my feet, pleased when I didn't wobble. With one hand I massaged my poor neck, where I could still feel the chain - and Keehl's fingers - digging into the delicate skin. After a minute or so, the sensations faded away, and I dropped my hand down to my pocket to grab the handcuff key.

"What are you doing?" Alice demanded, grabbing my wrist. "Are you crazy?"

I shook her off and walked towards Keehl, making eye contact for the sole purpose of forcing myself to get over fear of him. The captor cannot afford to be afraid of her prisoner. He stared right back at me, greeny-blue eyes slightly narrowed and very scrutinous. He was examining me, sizing me up to see if it was going to be worth trying to intimidate me into setting him free of the hideout. I knelt down in front of Keehl and took hold of the cuffs, making to put the key into the lock.

"MIR! Are you nuts? Don't take those off him!"

"He's just as dangerous with them as without," I shot back at Alice, still having my little staring contest with Keehl.

"Then let me do it!" she exclaimed, marching over and pushing me out of her way. Before either Keehl or I could do anything, Alice pulled the trigger and _shot_ the handcuffs off. I have never been so glad that Alice has unwavering aim. The look on our unwelcome guest's face said that he was thinking something along the same lines.

I pushed myself up to a standing position again and went back to my couch, where I plopped and resumed my security camera job. Alice joined me, ice-colored eyes narrowed as if to say, 'look at my sister wrong and you die' to the slightly shaken blonde on the other sofa. To try and alleviate a bit of the tension, I patted Alice on the shoulder.

"Well, that's one way to get 'em off."

**~.~.~**

The first week passed without any more gun incidents, but relations between the three of us did NOT improve. ...Okay, maybe they did. Alice went back to her normally abnormal self after the episode (she woke up the next morning acting like nothing had ever happened), and thus refrained from giving Keehl the 'I'm gonna kill you' look or vibe.

Our captive himself had a surprising lack of apprehension toward her; he seemed to think that none of it mattered anymore, and treated her... well, actually, a lot like I did. Yelling at her, calling her names, arguing with her... The only difference was that, deep down, I loved the girl; Keehl probably wouldn't have minded running her over with a truck. Other than that speculation, though, I had to say that Keehl and Alice came as close to getting along as people in our situation could. Me, on the other hand...

Keehl hated my guts. Short and sweet.

And I hated his too.

...Excuse me?.! Did you just say something about denial?.! The man tried to kill me! Why in the world would I like him, even a miniscule amount?.!.? ...Oh, shut up! You people are _weird_. But you're no weirder than Alice is, I guess. Allow me to explain.

Day 8 of Keehl's captivity, 1:47 PM. Keehl sits on the couch he's dubbed as his own, munching away on a chocolate bar he stole from Alice's Halloween stash. I sit on my couch, watching him as usual, when I am disctracted by a squeal...

"MIR!" Alice screeched gleefully, skipping into the room and coming to a stop in front of me.

"What?" I asked shortly. Ever since Keehl's arrival, my patience had been close to non-existant.

Alice wasn't phased, still smiling at me and bouncing up and down. "Let's plaaaay!" she sang. Out the corner of my eye, I saw Keehl frown, then shrug. I had to hand it to him - most people never adapted to Alice, and nobody'd ever done it in a week. He was impressive in that respect. "Come on, Mir, let's play!"

I leaned over and propped up on the arm of the couch. "What do you want to play, Alice? I need specifics before I agree."

She grinned like the madwoman she was. "Let's play Repo - The Genetic Opera!" she suggested excitedly. When I didn't refuse right away, she took it as a yes and launched into the specifics. "We're doing Zydrate Anatomy, 'cause that one's my favorite! And I wanna be Shiloh today, Mir."

Unthinking, I pouted and said, "Aw, that means I have to Amber!" I clapped a hand over my mouth immediately afterwards. That was an agreement if I ever heard one, and I didn't even want to do it! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Alice's grin widened. "YAAAAY~!" she yelled, running over to the TV against the wall and fumbling to put a disc in the DVD player.

I groaned and let my head fall against the back of the couch. "Moron..." I muttered to myself.

"You or her?" came a sarcastic-sounding question from somewhere to my right.

"Shut your face, Keehl," I answered without looking at him. Something hit my head, and I didn't have to look at that either to know that it was the empty chocolate wrapper. Blondie threw those at me on a regular basis.

Eyes still closed, I heard the opening notes of Zydrate Anatomy come from the direction of the television, and the clicks of Alices shoes as she skipped over to me again. "Come on, Mir," she said, grabbing my hands to pull me up. I sank back into the couch as much as possible, finally deciding to look at the world again.

"Amber doesn't show up yet," I told her, and she let go, a pout on her own face.

That pout vanished almost instantly, and Alice bounded over to Keehl. He raised an eyebrow, looking mildly disturbed by her presence. She pointed at him, smiling psychotically at me. "But Mir, we have a Graverobber now!" she exclaimed.

I choked on air. "N-NO FLIPPIN' WAY!" I screamed at her, snatching the plastic wrapper and throwing at her. It hit her square in the face, but she didn't even seem to notice.

"But Mir, he'd be a great Graverobber!" she protested, putting her hands together in the begging pose. "Pleeeeeease?"

_"Graverobber,"_ sang Amber Sweet from the TV. The three of us looked at it, me with horror at Alice's suggestion, Alice with a grin, and Keehl with that same disturbed expression. _"Graverobber... Sometimes I wonder why I need you at all..."_ For anyone who's seen Repo, you know what happens. All the rest of you who haven't? I can't describe how inappropriate it is, especially when I'm picturing _me_ and _**KEEHL**_ in that situation.

Keehl's jaw dropped, and his face turned about as red as I knew mine had to be. Alice just looked at us. "Please?" she begged again.

"_**NO!**_" we both shouted at her at stereo.

Alice hung her head and shuffled over to the TV, stopping the movie. "You guys are snarglewarps," she mumbled dejectedly, casting us hurt looks. She waited a moment to see if her patheticness would make us rescind our refusal. When it didn't, she stuck her tongue out at us. "You just don't wanna do it 'cause you like eachother!" she said loudly.

My face turned redder, but from anger more than embarrassment. "Alice, shut up-"

"MIR LIKES MELLO!" she bellowed, prancing around the room like a five year-old. "Mir likes Mello, Mir likes Mello, Mir likes Mello, Mir likes Mello!"

The candy wrapper hit me again, but on my arm this time instead of my face. I glanced over at Keehl, also red-faced. "...You got any duct tape in this place?" he choked out, not meeting my eyes. "I can't take that noise anymore."

Taking a breath to try and tame my wild blushing (it didn't work, by the way), I pointed at a shelf in the corner. "I'll hold her down."

* * *

><p>...Yeah, short and pathetic; I know. But hey, I tried. Now to the replies!<p>

Glitterthorn - Thank you so much! Your praise certainly keeps me writing. As for the updating thing, I WILL make an attempt, but I don't have internet at my house, so it kind of depends on when I can make it someplace that does have a functioning internet connection.

Stormygio - OHMYGOSH I AM SO GLAD SOMEBODY GOT THAT JOKE!.!.!.! I was laughing as I wrote that, but you're the only person who commented on it. I'm so glad somebody caught it!.!.! And thank you oh-so-much for your positive review; I love hearing that you guys love my work. ^^

Frogata - Weeeeellllll... I'm thinkin' about romance. After all, Mir and Mello hate eachothers guts... They practically HAVE to fall in love now XD. I know what you mean; can't tell you how many hours I've spent trying to find good fics with that pairing.

Kumixx - Awwsh, I know, right? But perhaps Matt will care for someone else a little further down the line as well... three guesses who!

I must thank you all again for reading/reviewing/favoriting/all that good stuff. You guys keep me writing and smiling! ^^ Merry Christmas to all, and once again, happy Mello's birthday ^.~


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